TASTE TASTE,
by Larry TrittenAngelica saw it first. Her espwhisper woke me in the middle of a dream about the green hills and gray cities of Earth, the sound of her voice slipping softly into my dreaming mind to dissolve the images of sky and meadow, which fell apart like a drift of soft mind snow. I woke and sat up, opening my eyes on the kitchen whiteness of the chamber, that tedious whiteness that all astrovags come to know so well. Spacecraft should be designed to look as much like waiting rooms as possible, some UNASA psychologist had no doubt once said, and the agency had recognized the insight in the thought and acted on it. Now, moments after waking, the white bulkhead seemed almost luminous in its intensity. I shielded my eyes as if from the glare of a sun and sat there, reintegr
